


still thoughts run deep

by crystalheartlover



Series: all the devils are here [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and yes i made a punny title sue me, but whatever floats your boat, its not even underage if you go by japan consent laws, no beta we die like men, shisui you perfect fool, this IS actually sweet and romantic, this really isnt incest guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 17:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20998877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalheartlover/pseuds/crystalheartlover
Summary: “I’m thirteen now, can’t I have a social life?” Itachi quipped as he looked past his shoulder, a tiny spark of mirth in his gaze.“You’ve been thirteen for all of two days, forgive me if I haven’t caught up to the big changes in your personality just yet,” he chortled, running a hand through his curls to mask the twitch in his fingers towards the alluring curve of Itachi’s neck.Fuck.





	still thoughts run deep

**Author's Note:**

> the year is 2k19 and shisui is driving me up the walls for not writing down his story. blame him for this.

_"I would not wish any companion in the world but you; nor can imagination form a shape, besides yourself, to like of." — The Tempest_

...

During the war, Shisui learned various kinds of habits. Some good, some bad. One of those was automatically activating his Sharingan once woken up from sleep. Suffice to say, it saved his ass more than a couple of times in and out of war zones. Not so much during peacetimes, however. 

Thanks to the clan’s dōjutsu his brain has stored up way too many images of teammates, iryō-nin, friends and family—and, at one point, a hefty brown-spotted Inuzuka dog—peering over him. All sporting varying shades of exasperation, surprise and amusement on their faces. 

But his favourites come from one person only. Long ink-dark hair falling loosely over sable eyes, curtaining a stereotypically pretty Uchiha face. Thin lips capable of twisting into a barely-there pout (from Shisui’s teasing) or a vaguely unhappy moue (from a lack of Sasuke or dango), but normally forming a flat line _(for everyone else)_. 

His cousin, his best friend, his beloved. **Itachi.** From the moment they met—and every day since, really—Shisui has wished fervently that he could wake up to that face for the rest of his life. More importantly, he’d hoped that Itachi would someday feel the same towards him. 

Watching the clan heir gradually change from an adorable kid into a graceful adolescent (seemingly missing all the pitfalls of puberty somehow) was almost torture. How many times have his hands ached to cradle a delicate jawline or curl around a slim waist? As many leaves are there in a forest of Hashirama trees, he imagines. 

A day spent with Itachi is tantamount to an exercise in restraint. Sometimes he wished the boy was more expressive, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the challenge. And very few things challenged Shisui these days, which he knew his fellow prodigy could attest to. 

In the lull between missions (and with Itachi occupied elsewhere) he often confined himself at home in front of the mirror, attempting to train the lovesick look out of his expressions and silently despairing over his un-Uchiha-like mess of curls. 

“Shisui?” A familiar soft lilt called from the hallway. 

Grimacing, the teenager snapped to alertness. Flaring his senses, he felt his best friend’s chakra moving sedately towards the kitchen. 

‘The cheeky little brat managed to disable the door traps again...maybe something with suiton next time?’ Shisui thought to himself amusedly before flickering from his bedroom. 

“What’s up ‘Tachi?” 

The youth in question hardly glanced at him, simply busying himself with the tea. “Kaa-san decided to take Sasuke on a playdate for once and I said not to expect me back for dinner as well.” 

Shisui quirked a brow. “Oh? What’s the occasion?” 

“I’m thirteen now, can’t I have a social life?” Itachi quipped as he looked past his shoulder, a tiny spark of mirth in his gaze. 

“You’ve been thirteen for all of two days, forgive me if I haven’t caught up to the big changes in your personality just yet,” he chortled, running a hand through his curls to mask the twitch in his fingers towards the alluring curve of Itachi’s neck. _Fuck._

His precocious cousin hummed non-committally as he opened the overhead cupboard to get tea cups, briefly pausing when he saw that they had been placed too deep for his shorter arms to reach. 

“Let me,” Shisui murmured, praying to the gods that Itachi wouldn’t think much of the slight hoarseness in his voice. 

Moving at a speed that would avoid triggering his Anbu reflexes, Shisui came to a stop directly behind Itachi, close enough that he could feel the other’s body heat and smell the faint scent of cherry blossoms in his hair. Mechanically, he pulled down cups, plates and a tray for snacks while he tried to think of something, **anything** that could distract him from thoughts of how their bodies would fit perfectly together. 

“Shisui?” 

The 16-year-old made an inquisitive sound in his throat, thoughts vainly grasping at what kinds of snacks he still stored around the kitchen and whether Itachi would accept savoury ones over sweets. Probably not. 

“Why won’t you kiss me?” 

Shisui’s breath faltered. A lesser shinobi would have dropped whatever they were holding, but he was Anbu too so the only change was his knuckles turning white around the tray in his hand. 

“What?” He croaked, absently wondering if he would end up damaging the tray after all. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Itachi huffed quietly and tugged it from his nerveless fingers to set it down on the counter before turning around in one smooth motion. 

Two pairs of onyx eyes stared at one another. The first appearing calm and collected, the second trying for both and failing miserably. 

“You heard me,” Itachi broke the silence first. 

Several heartbeats passed and the younger Uchiha chose not to elaborate further. Shisui was aware that he might very well be coming apart at the seams. Every inch of his body was vibrating with pent-up energy, Itachi’s question echoing constantly in his mind until: “I was **waiting**. ‘Tachi, you were so—and I would never, but I always hoped you’d—please, I just—I’ve loved you for so long,” he ended helplessly. 

“Then you must know that I...” Itachi hesitated, unusually, turning his head to the side. Shisui watched in dawning awe as the tip of his visible ear reddened. Suddenly, his thoughts went still. 

Slowly, so slowly, Itachi felt calloused fingers grip his chin, guiding him to look back. 

Shisui’s gaze was focused, filled with intent. “I am in love with you. I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives. Will you be with me, please?” 

Itachi exhaled, holding onto his best friend’s wrist like it was the only thing saving his body from drowning in relief. “Yes, Shisui,” he drew out his name, worshipful. It was a siren’s call, and Shisui was _gone_. 

Crowding against the counter, he tilted Itachi’s head up as he angled his neck towards his cousin’s smiling mouth. Their first kiss was gentle, an experimental brush of dry lips together. Then—a minute shift—and everything instantly became ten times wetter. Itachi went pliant, lashes fluttering along the top of his cheekbones as he instinctually parted his lips to allow Shisui’s insistent tongue in. 

On his part, Shisui has never been this aroused in his entire life. His best friend tasted like matcha, a hint of sweet shōyu and something inherently male. The older teen had a knee between the other’s legs, rubbing against his groin deliberately and only breaking apart when Itachi lightly pulled on his curls to catch his attention. 

“What do you want, ‘Tachi?” Shisui grounded out, making an effort to rein in the urge to take the boy right there and then in the kitchen. 

“Anything, everything. Just you,” Itachi’s eyes, equally clouded with desire, beseeched him. 

Shisui gave in. “Wrap your legs around me,” his vocal chords sounded, half growling half guttural. Itachi complied with the ease of a shinobi’s flexibility, pressing his body close as he shunshined them both towards his bed. 

After settling Itachi down onto the pillows, Shisui began shucking off his clothes and weapons perfunctorily out of habit. He privately lamented that his cousin was doing the same, but comforted himself with thoughts of a strip tease next time. 

Once completely bare, Shisui prowled on hands and knees up the mattress towards him, charcoal eyes bleeding into Sharingan red as he did so. Itachi said nothing, merely wearing a fond twist to his lips, scarlet eyes mirroring his. 

They brazenly studied each other from head to toe, committing faces and bodies to memory. Itachi was so beautiful he could scarcely resist the impulse to place butterfly pecks on the forehead normally covered by a hitai-ate, the tip of his nose, the lines of his cheekbones and the corner of his mouth. 

“I won’t ever hurt you. Wanna feel good with you, ‘Tachi,” Shisui mumbled into soft skin. His thumbs caressed the solid points of the hipbones below him, knowing they’d be thoroughly covered in hickies and bruises by the time night falls. 

Itachi’s breath hitched a little, “I want that too.” 

Humming reassuringly, Shisui sucked the first hickey into the space between his collarbones before planting a couple more on his shoulders and neck, carefully picking spots where they could be easily covered during missions. 

To his utter delight, Itachi’s nipples were incredibly responsive, which was why he couldn’t help but spend an inordinate amount of time licking and sucking pink buds into swollen stiffness—possibly even forever if Itachi hadn’t put a foot down (literally) by jabbing a pressure point on his calf, his self-conscious glower and flushed complexion practically ordering him to get on with the programme. Shisui was sure that the sole reason his best friend hadn’t prodded any harder was because he’d inadvertently zeroed in on the dimples in his cheeks from the wide grin splitting his face. 

Placing a last kiss on a taut midriff, he then swallowed Itachi’s length to the root without warning, causing the latter to keen in surprise and pleasure. Paying special attention to the underside, he knew it wouldn’t be long before—“Sh-Shisui,” the boy mewled, interrupting his thoughts with an unyielding grip on his shoulders. 

If Shisui was in a more teasing mood—and if they had more time—he would be kissing and licking every inch of available skin right down to the younger prodigy’s feet. But not today. ‘Today, I have to make him mine,’ the thought echoed inside Shisui with a sense of possessiveness and profound joy. 

Pulling back for a moment, he spoke in a susurrant tone, “Let everything go, ‘Tachi. I’ll take care of you.” 

A small squeeze was his only answer. Unheeding of the consequences, he blew a playful puff of air onto the blushing tip, hands holding Itachi’s hips down. He closed his lips firmly over the shiny head and gave a harsh suck, finally rewarded with a quiet whimper and a bittersweet taste coating his tongue. 

Quickly transferring the mouthful to one hand, he laid the other on a milky-white thigh, wordlessly requesting to continue what he started. Preoccupied with catching his breath back—though not enough to dim the curiosity in his gaze—Itachi shifted so his legs could be spread further apart. 

“Wider,” he dared to command, and the sight of the clan heir obediently acquiescing sent a rush of power **so heady** it would have made him sway on his feet if he were fully upright. As it is, Shisui felt a minor jerk beneath his pelvis, his cock no doubt punishing him for taking his time. 

Leaning upwards to steal another searing kiss, a slippery finger breached Itachi’s entrance, sliding past the second knuckle just as his older cousin began licking his teeth. 

“Shisui?” The teenager made a questioning noise in reply, busy nosing up a neck lightly beaded with sweat. “I can take a little pain. I trust you.” 

An imperceptible huff behind his ear, “As you wish.” Itachi willed his muscles to relax as a second digit swiftly joined the first, scissoring and preparing him for more. But it wasn’t until the third was in—and Shisui switching angles—that he felt a sudden pleasant jolt up his spine. 

Not missing the stutter in breathing, Shisui smirked and hit that position again on purpose before slowly withdrawing his fingers entirely. He brushed kisses to the displeased slant in his best friend’s brow, one hand slicking up his aching length while the other braced itself against the back of a supple thigh. 

Despite everything, Itachi still couldn’t prevent himself from crying out when the head of Shisui’s cock pushed through for the first time, the older Uchiha not stopping till there wasn’t any more space between them. Distantly, he registered that Shisui was swearing. 

“Fuck, **fuck**—you feel so good, ‘Tachi. You’re so fuckin’ tight for me, your heat is just sucking me in,” he babbled, words slurring from the pleasure. Then he ground his hips against that _perfect ass_ and Itachi yelped at the instant jolt once more. 

At the noise, Shisui’s body seemed to move independently of his will, hips snapping back and forth steadily—but with increasing need—as Itachi’s voice changed to wanton moans. Chasing the high, he was aware enough to keep aiming relentlessly at that sweet spot while the sounds of skin slapping together filled the room. 

“Shisui, I-I’m,” Itachi whined. 

Flexing his jaw at a particularly deep thrust, he rasped, “I know, ‘Tachi, me too.” 

Relinquishing a hand from the bruising grip on his younger cousin’s hipbone, Shisui wrapped firm fingers around his arousal—occasionally pressing into the slit—and watched as Itachi came screaming his name. 

Not wanting to milk the oversensitive organ too much, he moved the boy’s legs over his shoulders so he could thrust into velvet heat harder and faster. A litany of _“mine, mine, mine”_ passing his lips until a sated and tired Itachi crooned out a faint _“yours”_—and Shisui’s head was abruptly thrown back, name hissed through clenched teeth as he rode out his completion. 

Minutes later—after collecting a damp washcloth from the bathroom and glasses of water for them both—Shisui gave his best friend an apology as he cleaned up the messes left behind. 

“For what?” Came the rejoinder from the pillows. 

He shook his head, sighing, “I wanted your first time to be sweet and romantic—” 

Itachi snorted, the noise half muffled by an arm across his face. “Don’t be. I liked it better this way.” 

“Did you really?” Shisui surreptitiously ogled the subtle afterglow in his expression, mutter hesitant yet not quite disbelieving. 

“Yes. I chose you as my first and only, Shisui.” Ebony eyes peeked out under a pale forearm to meet his, doing absolutely nothing to hide the red in his ears. 

“I love you too,” Shisui blurted out without thinking. Then, mortified, decided to pin persistent kisses to will the soft laughter away until they _(predictably)_ started up all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> i separated this fic into a standalone option for the lovers and dreamers like me, but be forewarned that the next part in the series won't be anything remotely like this (spoiler alert: it involves a lot of pain and suffering on our favourite uchihas' part). don't worry, archive warnings will be changed accordingly once posted.
> 
> 1 kudo = 1 shisui successfully cajoling the clan heir into spending the night with him after dinner


End file.
